De-resurrection

CHAPTER SIX

Lene Marlin. Heaven is a Place Nearby

Molly held her head in her hands over the bowl of steam. Her tears fell into it with an irregular plop-plop. She didn't (got sick of writing properly. Bored of rules) notice them anymore. There had just been too many. She would never give up, but that wasn't the point. They were always in danger, but she had always known roughly where they were, and that somebody was looking after them. Now, lots of people were looking for them. On the news today, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had been declared guilty of perverting the course of justice. Now they were in a much trouble as Draco, nearly.

She breathed the steam in through her nose in a feeble attempt to clear it.

Molly had sent all the owls in the family, but they couldn't afford to send any from the post-office. There had been no reply, but God only knew where they all were. Who knew if they were even alive? She had given up on God a bit since this had happened. He seemed to have forgotten her.

Narcissa had been an oddly comforting friend recently. She had told Molly all she knew, which wasn't much, but it helped.

All the boys had come home. They were looking after her so well. Arthur was scouring the countryside for the children, but he had found nothing. The steam swirled around her head, and the patterns were distracting, pretty. She couldn't see them through the tears, but it was the thought that counted...

What did thought do?

She leapt up, rubbing her face against the dirty sleeve of her jumper, and ran to the door. She looked back once, then grabbed Charlie's broom and flew off. In the kitchen, the steam trailed up to the ceiling, and then fizzled out. She had been gone a long time.

-------

Lupin scrabbled the quill around frantically to pick up the last drop of ink in the bottle. There was one sentence to go, and it had run out. He just made it, though it was hard going.

He looked at his finished piece of writing. It should do the trick. Realising, he removed his tongue from between his teeth, sucking on it to stop it being so dry. He looked up, the skin on his neck prickling warningly, and saw Narcissa grinning at him. He realised he looked like he was sucking an egg, and stopped, blushing.

'What's that?' she asked, pointing at his parchment.

'Oh, it's a... theory I'm working on,' he lied, well, sort of.

'Oh,' she said. He could see her devious brain switching off behind her eyes as he started to talk Teacher-ish.

She walked away, and he smiled. It always worked. Dear Narcissa, she was lovely, but stupid. Otherwise she wouldn't have been with Lucius. He could bore her to sleep, literally. Mind you, he couldn't see why. He thought his lectures on vampire allergies were fascinating. Oh well, each to his own. He shrugged and blew the last of the ink dry on his page, before heading to the kitchen for some supplies.

The house elves, of course, were delighted to see him. They always passed on rumours to him. This was kind of nice, because almost all living things shunned him. Humans especially. Plants weren't fond of him, but they put up with him. House elves loved him. He didn't know why.

They rushed about in their new tea-towels, proudly offering him all the things he asked for. He left them, laden with various ingredients. It would have to go after the Wolfsbane potion. Then it would work out fine.

He sighed, and took a map out of his pocket. He had taken the liberty of drawing one up. He got lost too often here. The map had been cast with the same spell as the Marauder's Map, and a little dot displayed that Narcissa was on the second floor toilet. He blushed and covered that bit with his thumb. Lupin traced a few staircases, and started to walk. It could be well after dark before he got there, though.

-------

'It's a mode of transport,' Hermione fumed, stepping onto the train.

'I don't think... ugh! You suggest I should sit on these seat?' he sneered. 'But... you can practically see the little fleas crawling all over them.' He stepped away from them, to emphasise his point.

'Sit down, you little snob,' Hermione sniffed, placing herself on a seat next to a window. Ron, looking slightly frightened by all the normal people, and jumping whenever they came near him, sat next to her and held her hand like a small child. Harry sat opposite them, trying not to look upset or nervous. Sirius was in his pocket.

It wasn't as weird as it sounded. They had shrunk him to take him on the train, as animals weren't allowed. It was the easiest way. The problem was, he kept squirming, and poking Harry's side. Draco spread his coat over the seat and sat on that, making sure that no part of him was touching the actual 'flea-ridden' fabric. Ginny sat beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, and her arm wrapped around his waist.

It was a long way to Stonehenge. Draco sat like he had a rod up his arse the whole way, for fear of touching the public transport chairs. Harry let his mind drift. Hermione was running everything, chivvying them up when they had to swap trains. Sirius was singing dirty songs in his pocket. Ron glared at everyone, as though they were hiding monsters in their brief-cases.

Harry started laughing at the lyrics of one particular song, and all the business people were looking at him. As the train was in total silence it was bit noticeable. Panicking, he thought quickly.

'Uh, mobile-phone!' he said brightly to Hermione. He created one quickly, reaching into his coat and pretending to pull it out. When it appeared it looked close enough to a real phone, and he pretended to answer a text-message before putting it back in his coat. 'I really have to set it to ring, instead of vibrate,' he said falsely to Hermione. She nodded, smiling.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and poked Sirius. His minimised Godfather responded by biting his knuckle. Harry yelped, and flicked Sirius' stomach.

Everybody began to look at them after a while. Some people unfolded their newspapers and flicked through them without taking their eyes off the group. Hermione, puzzled by this, snatched a paper off the seat beside her, and read it quickly. With a quickly smothered gasp, she showed Harry a certain page.

They were there. All of them. There was a school photo of Harry, his hair flattened down with water, and a silly smile on his face. It had only been a year ago.

Hermione's picture showed her sitting on a swing wearing a green dress. She was smiling and looking happy. Harry recognised it from her bedside table at school. He had taken it himself over the summer.

Ron's picture didn't show him too well, but it was in colour, and that was enough. It was the only Muggle picture there was of him, and it was from the holiday at Hermione's.

Ginny's was too. It showed her chasing Ron, who had stolen her book. Harry's heart clenched, and he missed being able to do whatever he wanted. It was hard enough being Harry Potter. Being a convict Harry Potter was pushing it.

Draco didn't look happy. He looked miserable. His picture was from a Muggle-studies lesson, and he had, surprisingly, ink on his cheek. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair looked as though he hadn't managed to brush it. It could never look tangled, but it looked messier than usual.

Harry gaped at Hermione.

'Desperate times,' she whispered. Harry poked Ginny, who looked up straight away. He showed her the picture, and she showed it to Draco, looking very scared. Draco glanced at him.

'Get to the gap between the carriages,' he said, frowning very slightly.

They all got up slowly. People were looking at them more. As they moved to the door at the end, the others on the train began to call out. Some leapt up from their seats to try to stop them. Draco inspected a man who was coming at him, and knocked him out with a well-aimed punch from his bony fist. Harry kicked out at a woman who grabbed onto his leg as he pulled the door open. Ron was wind-milling his arms, pushing everyone back. They all dived out of the door and slammed it shut.

Ron clung onto the handle, pulling it tight. The rails flashed underneath them, and the roaring was so loud that Harry couldn't hear himself think. He glanced at the verges disappearing behind them, and shook his head at Hermione.

'We can't jump off, Herm, it's going too fast.'

She nodded, and looked around anxiously. She was biting her lip, and clutching the charm at her throat.

'Apparate. It's our last chance,' she said finally.

'I don't think that's such a good idea,' Draco said lightly, shielding Ginny from shattered glass as one of the Muggles broke the window.

'Come on!' she growled. With her hair whipping around her head she looked very scary. Draco turned to face her.

'Don't you think we're in enough trouble already?' he asked her quietly, and Harry thought it was strange how clear Draco's voice was over the noise.

'Well it's alright for you!' she shrilled. 'You're going to be dead before they catch up!'

Harry could tell from the look on her face that she regretted this the instant she said it.

'You didn't have to say that,' Draco told her, his eyes sad.

'I know, I'm...' but she didn't finish, because Draco flickered and vanished. With a short oath, Ron followed him. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, and focused hard on going after them. He felt Hermione go just as they did, and the swirl of colours started up.

-------

Draco wasn't angry with Hermione for himself. He, after all, knew he was going to die. It would be the only useful thing he had ever done in his life. He was angry for Ginny. She had cried herself to sleep last night. He knew, because she had come into his tent, and begged him to stay with her. Hermione didn't have a right to use that. She was smart, she knew it wouldn't hurt him... or would it? He didn't know any more. Before he had been certain that it was just the spell making him like these freaks, but now, he wasn't so sure.

His knees hit the wet grass and he stood up. He flicked the silvery hair out of his eyes and gazed around him. The tall, rough stones in the circle were the same as he remembered them. January wasn't a real popular outdoor museum time, so it was totally deserted. He could only see to the edge of the hill it stood on, because the rest was obscured by rain.

The same rain that ran down the back of his neck, and plastered his hair to the sides of his face. The rain that beaded heavily on his eyelashes, making blinking hard, and seeing harder. The others were walking up behind him. He felt the footsteps in their spiked boots trudging cruelly across the surface of his soul. He would not hear them again after this day. It had to be done. He could not deny that, but was it worth...

He squinted his eyes and looked upwards at the stormy sky. The rain washed his face, and it felt like the tears he would never cry, the tears he no longer had the time to cry.

'Let's do it,' he said, turning around.

They nodded. He walked back to them, it was simple. He had to say the words, then run the dagger through his heart. He had made sure it was a nice dagger. No one deserved to die cheaply, no matter how bad they were. It was solid silver, studded with jewels in the hilt. They were green and sparkling, he had picked this one especially from his father's cabinet at home.

They were standing in a circle. He joined them, in the space left for him.

Hermione linked her hand with his, and he gave his other hand to Potter. Hermione began to chant.

'A soul, a spirit, a life was given,

unto a body where death was driven.

The life will be transferred this day,

And this day, finally, sent away.

A victim, true of heart and mind,

Will take this soul in the dust to bind.' Her voice wavered as she spoke, and she looked at Draco for the next bit.

'Into me...' he began, but Harry burst in.

'Into me I take this soul.

Willing, pure of heart am I.

Strife no longer in my turn,

Time has come for him to die.

Blade of silver, burning bright,

To you I give my life this night.' Harry began to glow brightly, and they heard the sound of a scream over a huge bell tolling. Draco knew the instant it worked. Where he had felt Voldemort before, now there was just nothing. Lots of visions flickered past Draco's eyes, but he ignored them. He was shouting at Harry, screaming, and furious. A wind began to howl around them, and Draco tried to pull his hands away and stop Harry, but he couldn't. He had sealed the spell.

'You fucking idiot, Potter!' Draco bellowed, trying to kick the knife away, but Harry let go of his hand and reached down for the shining blade.

'Potter! Harry!' Draco cried. He heard other voices mingling with his own, but Harry wouldn't listen. As his hand touched the hilt, the rushing intensified, and they were lifted off their feet by the wind. Harry held out the blade before him, and in the seething darkness, he glowed like a beacon.

'Living light in candle flame,

Soul of water, easing pain.

Life of air, bright and true.

Earth, my life I give to you.' Solemn, like this was all he ever planned to do, he swung the dagger down. Draco's hand came free, and he threw himself forward. He reached for the dagger, but knocked it to one side, and it slid under Harry's ribs, like it was meant to.

'I love you, Hermione!' Harry called, falling back, back and down into the darkness. There was a single flash as he hit the swirling blackness, then all was quiet. Draco hurled himself down after Harry. The small opening where the sacrifice had been accepted was closing. Draco thrust his hand through, reaching for Harry.

His fingertips brushed Harry's forehead, tracing the scar, before it was gone. A bright flash left all as it had been. Draco knelt on the ground beside Harry's body. It was raining, and the sky was stormy.

It felt like the tears he would never cry, the tears he no longer had time to cry...

Hot, salty, traitorous tears burned acid streaks down his face, running into the corners of his mouth. He tasted them on his tongue. He reached out a trembling hand to the hilt protruding from Harry's chest. The emeralds were rubies now. They glowed like the blood on Draco's fingers. He pressed the fingertips to his cheek.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to be the hero, Harry. I never had to do that. No more was expected of me than what I could give. I would never risk myself for another, I was too high a price to pay. And you were, Harry. I was never worth what you were... still are. It was for me, that dagger. It was my favourite. The best one. Though it still wasn't good enough for you.'

He picked up Harry's arms, and arranged him in a restful pose. He straightened the boy's dark head, and removed his glasses. Harry looked so uncomfortable with them on. Draco folded them and slid them into Harry's pocket. Potter couldn't see without them. He would need them when he woke up. Draco closed the gaping eyes, and rubbed the mud off Harry's pale face. He looked at the dagger. It looked so crude. He pulled it out, and lay it in one of Harry's hands.

'That's better,' he choked. 'Fighting to the end.' He smiled weakly.

He looked up. They all stood around him, now. One by one, they dropped to their knees. Sobbing brokenly, muttering things to Harry, but of course he couldn't hear them. It was far too late for that. What was it worth saying things that went unsaid. That was for the caring.

Draco cared.

-------

It was icy, for early February. The sky was blinding, it was so bright. They trudged up the small hill to the cemetery. Sirius had asked for it to be that way, and they had all agreed. A walkway had been cut off to make space for Harry next to his parents.

There were no tears. So many tears had been cried that it was as though the well had emptied. All over the world, the story was being told. Harry had saved them, by the ultimate sacrifice. They were too selfish. Everyone was so happy that Voldemort was gone, but Draco would have much sooner been killed by Voldemort than see Harry die.

He blamed himself, naturally. It was what he had been trained to do. He stood apart from the others. It was different for him. He had felt the dagger in his own chest, heard Harry's thoughts those last few seconds. The spell had linked them when they had both tried to do it.

It was easy to see where he was. The ground was new, and a deep hole stood at the foot of a modest granite headstone. It was empty, but over it hung a coffin of ebony. A gold plaque said what Draco didn't want to read. He couldn't avoid the headstone. It bore down on him, with the inscription they had all chosen.

'The knight's bones are dust, and his good sword rust, and his soul is with the Saints, I trust.'

Sirius lay by the grave in his dog form. He whined and whimpered, but no one stopped him. Dumbledore stood behind the pit that was to be Harry's final bed, and cleared his throat.

'Many losses have been incurred in the fight against darkness. Many people have lost their lives, and Harry is no exception. All his life he has been hunted. Those he cared for were taken away from him as soon as he knew they were there. Any ordinary person would separate themselves from the world, to save themselves the pain. Harry did not.

'He was strong, in the way that no one is strong anymore. He gave himself for others whenever he could, and never for himself alone.

'Remember Harry Potter. I doubt you could forget.' He stepped back, and nodded to Ron. Hermione had been unable to put together the words.

'I don't really... I haven't really known Harry all that long, but the first time I met him, I knew he was more than a famous name. He had this light, I could never be what he was, and that hurt me. I wanted to be him. I still do. What I'm trying to say is... he was more than we deserved. He was too good for us, and then he's gone, all because of some nutter who couldn't get enough power and pain.' Ron broke off. He shook his head, and walked away.

Draco stepped forwards briefly. All eyes turned to him, and he could tell they weren't expecting him to speak. He lifted a handful of dirt from the side of the grave.

'Someone once said to me "Do not seek eternal life, but exhaust the realm of the possible." When I heard this I thought it meant try to do everything, then no one can beat you. Even before I... when I didn't know Harry all that well, I realised that he was what that meant. If anyone exhausted the possible, it was him.

'I was meant to die. I was going to do what he did, but he took it from me. I never sought eternal life, but distance from being whatever I couldn't. I wanted to be the best in my own shell. Harry already was the best, in any shell, without trying. He was born good, but he died forsaken.

'You. You who have rested everything on him, left it to him again. The spell can't have been hard to find. You knew,' he said, turning to Dumbledore. He was getting angry now. 'You had that book. It was on your shelf. I've seen it Gods only know how many times. You were waiting for him to find it, and come to you.'

Dumbledore hung his head slightly.

'What would you have told him then? Fobbed him off with some crap about dwelling on dreams? Yes. That's what you'd do. Can't you see?' he hissed. 'I was forced to kill my father, and Potter was the one who chose to believe me. He helped me, and you began to hunt him. None of you would listen to a word any of us said. Now you've paid. You've lost your Boy-Who-Lived. Happy now?'

He moved to throw the dirt on the grave, but changed his mind. Clutching it in his hand he walked away.

-------

They buried Harry. Ginny thought it was the worst thing they could do. He was stuck in a graveyard, miserable and haunted. He deserved more than that. When everybody had left, she stayed back. Sirius hadn't gone, but it didn't seem like he ever would. Hermione was... Ginny didn't care.

'Are you there?' she whispered.

The wind rustled through the bare trees.

'Harry?'

Some birds cooed in a nest somewhere.

'Can you hear me?'

'I hear you.'

'Are you okay?'

There was no answer.

'Harry?'

'Yes?'

'Are you okay?'

'Not too bad. Did Hermione hear me?'

'I think so.'

'Good. Thank Draco. That dagger was cold.'

'What? No, don't worry about it. I will,' she promised.

'I'm sorry. I couldn't do that to you and his mother,' Harry apologised, and she could almost see his face.

'Why? Why, Harry? You know it didn't have to be you!'

'But I'm okay!' he said, and she could hear his smile through his words. 'Talk to me sometime, Gin.'

'I promise.'

She got up slowly. They had their final trial today. The one they had been granted due to Harry's actions, and it was their last chance to redeem themselves.

All the guests, her family, all those Harry had ever been friends with stood about her. She walked over to Ron. He looked stretched. His face was so white. The bones poked through his skin, and dark circles hung beneath his eyes. He looked... weary. They all were.

They had been staying at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's protection for the last month, and now they were finally released.

'I'm back. You can't get rid of me. Lovely speech of Draco's, convey my regards.'

Ginny whirled around, terrified. Standing behind her with his hands in his pockets, stood Harry.

'Well, I hope they let us off,' Ron said heavily. He stared at the smudgy clouds on the horizon, and sighed. He didn't seem to see or hear Harry at all.

Ginny nodded. She wanted to find Draco, to tell him that Harry was okay. She walked to the edge of the silent group, and saw him. He sat on a rock, his knees up and his arms folded on top of them. His chin rested on his forearm, and his hair tousled in the wind.

She picked her way down to him, and Harry walked beside her, pointing out good paths through the grass and gravestones.

'He isn't dead,' she said quietly, sitting beside him, and gazing at the smooth plane of his cheek.

'She's right,' Harry nodded, sitting on Draco's other side.

'How can you tell?' Draco asked, not looking at her.

'I think I'd know if I was dead,' Harry protested, folding his arms.

'He's sitting right beside you!' she exclaimed, pointing.

Draco looked slowly from side to side. 'Ginny, I love you to pieces, but you're totally insane.' He shook his head. 'Potter's gone, Gin. It's all my fault.'

'I'm a phantom,' Harry said, dismayed. He looked at his hands, turning them over and over.

'You must be on another plane,' Ginny told him, thinking hard. A little frown-line appeared between her eyebrows.

'No, you're the one who missed the bus,' Draco told her gently, putting an arm around her shoulders.

'Not you! Harry!' she explained, wide-eyed with truthfulness.

'Right,' he nodded. 'Whatever.'

'That's it. As soon as we get back to school, I'm going to the library,' she decided.

'Oh no! not you too!' Harry groaned, holding his head in his hands.

'I don't know what you mean,' she sniffed.

'I didn't say anything!' Draco frowned.

'I know!'

'This is depressing,' Harry mumbled.

'You're telling me,' Ginny moaned.

'Telling you what?' Draco was getting seriously worked up by now.

'It doesn't matter. We have to go anyway.'

'Stop talking like I'm not here!' Harry grinned.

'I'm not! I'm talking to you all the time! Draco's getting scared!'

'Too right I am.'

-------

Hermione couldn't get the scene out of her head. It played over and over on the way to the Ministry. The swirling darkness, Harry's hand disappearing like it was going through water, and him calling out... I love you Hermione!

She couldn't say anything. Then there was Draco, kneeling by Harry's body. Rage and misery contorting his face, blood on his hands, and that dagger. The invisible carriage shook and bounced as it dodged cars on the busy road. Her head smacked painfully against the cold glass, and it set off a whirl of stars, dancing against the backdrop of Harry... again and again.

Ron slid an arm around her waist, and she wanted to push him away. It wasn't right. She turned numbly to look at him. When she did, she saw Harry's face, not Ron's. Tears started up again, and she didn't bother to wipe them away.

She stared into the glass, picturing all the things they had done together. Reflected in the window, she saw Harry. He leaned forwards and wiped her face with his cuff. She felt the brush of soft fabric on her cheek, and reached a hand up to hold it there, but it was gone. His reflection smiled, and reached out to her. But then it vanished.

She held a cold hand to her face, and it was washed over straight away with tears. Ginny looked at her, concerned. She reached into her coat and handed Hermione a handkerchief. Hermione smiled and nodded gratefully, before setting to work on the task of making herself presentable.

The carriage pulled up outside a building looking much like Gringotts, but with more offices. Several armed wizards awaited them on the front steps, and surrounded them as they stepped out of the carriage. They were suddenly confronted with a barrage of reporters, flashing and smoking cameras pointed at them from all sides, and ugly, overdressed witches clamoured for interviews, falling over each other to get to them. Draco seemed totally in his element. He smiled, and posed for pictures, laughing and joking, and signing things for weak-kneed young witches. Ginny looked at the floor all the time. Ron looked defensive. Hermione knew she looked a complete mess. Sirius the dog slunk along beside her, growling whenever someone came near.

As the huge doors slammed behind them, a sudden silence fell. The five were marched into a large conference room, where they sat at a long table, facing lots of silent, suited men and robed women. There was a glass of water before each padded chair, and if it wasn't for the guards at every door and window, Hermione thought it would be luxury.

They all sidled into chairs, Sirius sitting at their feet. Desperately thirsty, Hermione snatched up the glass of water, and drank it all. But as soon as it hit the back of her throat, she could tell it wasn't water. It had a sort of burnt sugar taste, and was thick. It scorched her all the way down, and she doubled up choking. She saw Ginny and Ron do the same. Draco's glass was untouched.

'I suggest you drink it, Mr Malfoy. If you don't, we'll force-feed it to you,' an unpleasant looking man sneered silkily.

'I'd like to see you try,' Draco retorted smoothly, folding his arms and leaning back.

'I don't think you would. You are unarmed, we may remind you,' the wizard recovered. He had obviously expected his threat to faze Draco slightly.

'You would be wrong to expect that I can't stop you,' Draco warned him, his silver eyes glittering.

'Just drink it,' the man snapped.

'Make me.'

The man pointed his wand at Draco. He muttered something, and a bolt of blue-grey light shot at Draco.

It stopped an inch from his face, then iced over along its length. It shattered and fell to the floor. Draco didn't move an inch.

'That one's illegal. I wouldn't use it again if you don't want to go to Azkaban,' Draco recommended. 'Don't bother. I'll tell you the truth anyway. I don't need Veritaserum.'

The man looked unconvinced, but also slightly scared.

'Any questions?' he asked, turning to the group of Ministry officials.

'Are you guilty of killing your father?' one woman squeaked to Draco.

'No.'

'Can anybody vouch for that?'

'They all can.'

'Miss Granger?'

'He was under the influence of the Imperius curse,' she said tonelessly. She could hear herself, but she wasn't thinking about what she said, it was odd.

'How do you know?' the woman challenged.

'His actions obviously weren't his own. When I said the counter-curse he told us what had happened.'

'Mr Malfoy. Can you tell us what did happen?'

'Voldemort cursed me,' Draco sighed, tipping his chair back onto two legs.

'How do we know you're telling the truth?' a wizard snapped.

Draco's eyes glowed red momentarily, and his nostrils flared. His face took on a pinched, white appearance for a second, before he drank every drop of the potion in his glass wordlessly.

'Voldemort cursed me,' he repeated. 'He made me kill Ginny, but it bounced off and killed my father.'

'We have no choice but to believe him,' someone muttered. There were lots of hushed voices and conferring for a minute.

'Why did you escape from Azkaban?' a fat man asked him.

'Because I was innocent,' Draco sneered. Hermione thought it was amazing how he could still be insolent when he wasn't controlling his own mouth. It was quite a talent.

'How did you do it?' someone asked quietly, looking up from a notepad.

'I apparated out,' Draco answered.

'You should be unable to do that without your wand.'

'Well, that's just me, I guess,' he shrugged, smiling. Several witches blushed.

'It's impossible,' one warlock snapped.

'Oh, well... I could do a repeat performance, if you want. I swear. It must be possible, if I'm here, and all.'

'Look, I think Mr Malfoy is innocent. All charges dropped against Draco Malfoy.'

Draco stood up and bowed, before going to sit on a bench against the left wall.

'Mr Weasley. You have been charged, along with Virginia Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter of perverting the course of justice by rescuing and hiding Mr Malfoy. How do you plead?'

'I am guilty. But if he's innocent, then isn't it '

Draco stood up and bowed, before going to sit on a bench against the left wall.

'Mr Weasley. You have been charged, along with Virginia Weasley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter of perverting the course of justice by rescuing and hiding Mr Malfoy. How do you plead?'

'I am guilty. But if he's innocent, then isn't it you that's being the pervert?' Ron grinned.

'It's a different word, Mr Weasley,' the wizard sighed.

'Right. But still?'

'You must pay a fine, and take a warning. All of you must, but you will be let off on this occasion.'

Ron's face was deathly pale. 'How much?' he asked in a small voice.

'One hundred galleons each.'

'We can pay it,' Ginny piped up. Ron gaped at her.

'Well, I'm glad that's all cleared up. Now onto the murder of Harry Potter.'

'He killed himself,' Hermione said.

'He's still alive,' Ginny whispered to her. 'He's just on another plane.'

'Are you sure?' Hermione hissed back.

Ginny nodded.

'Alright then. Sorry about all this. You're free to go.'

-------

'Little bit of an anticlimax if you ask me,' Draco said, through a mouthful of potato. The students were to be returning tomorrow, so this was their last lunch in peace. They had been given their own rooms while they hid out, and they would be returning to the dormitories once half term was over.

'I'm going to try and get in contact with Harry tonight,' Ginny told them.

'Oh, yes. I was going to spend today in the library,' Hermione remembered, leaping up and running out.

'I knew we could never change her,' Harry sighed, trying, without success, to pick up a humbug.

Ginny smiled at him, and picked one up for him. He opened his mouth, and she dropped it in. it fell to the floor, of course. Draco scowled at her. She giggled, and he put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. In the end, she budged up to sit on his chair. Ron gazed after Hermione, a sad look on his face.

'Harry isn't even properly dead, and I still lost her,' he sighed. He was trying to sound light, but Ginny heard his voice crack.

Harry wisely chose to remain silent.

Draco squinted around.

'Potter?' he asked, experimenting.

'Yes?' Harry said, moving over to Draco.

'I wish he'd answer me,' Draco growled. Harry looked as though he was about to say something, but stopped, shaking his head. 'Look, Potter, tell Ginny about where you are, how it feels, and all that, then get her to tell me, okay?'

Harry nodded, but Draco didn't see that.

Harry tried to think what it was like. It was the same, but different. The world he was in was the real world, but in monochrome. There were only a few colours, picked out now and again. He could be seen in mirrors, and windows, and otherwise, only by seers. It also hurt, slightly. Whenever you are away from your natural plane, you are being called back all the time. He was dead on his own plane, and his soul resided in this one. He couldn't go back, yet, so he was torn. When he lost contact with his own world, he was just in an endless field of grey. Memories he'd rather have forgotten and memories he would have loved to live again flashed past him. There was no feeling, not since the cold dagger caught fire under his ribcage.

He tried to put it into words to Ginny, and she relayed them perfectly to Draco. He considered it for a few moments, then vanished. Literally. One moment he was sitting there, then he wasn't. They had just realised he was gone when he returned. He held a huge red book under one arm, and a magnifying glass in his other hand. He flipped the book open and began to scan it intently. When he reached a certain stage, he pulled out the magnifying glass. He muttered to himself as he worked, and his silver-blond hair fell in messy curtains around his face.

Harry watched him earnestly, praying to all the deities he could think of that Draco would find it. It was odd to find himself trusting Malfoy. In this case, however, he was quite certain that Malfoy knew his stuff. It would be illegal stuff, but it would do the trick. Gingerly, Harry pressed his fingers to the wound in his stomach. He felt nothing, of course, but it would never heal.

Bugger, another scar, he thought glumly, and this one'll be just as popular. And famous.

Draco's nose was brushing the page now. Suddenly, he stopped. His head snapped up, and he gave Ginny an evil grin.

'How do you feel about a spot of Necromancy, Potter?' he smirked.

-------

David Lupin clenched and unclenched his hands. They were stiff with the change. Cold claws were running out of his fingertips, and his knuckles cracked loudly under the strain. Fur prickled in a foul line down his back, and his gums bled copiously as his teeth were replaced with fangs. With a stinging crunch, his nose flattened into his lip, which then grew and grew, tearing the bones of his jaw apart. His spine creaked in protest as it pulled out into a tail. He slumped down on all fours, blood pouring from many parts of his body. Then the blood awakened him. The taste of it made him wild.

He slammed up against the thick glass of his cell. All his friends at the Werewolves' Guild were at various stages too. Slowly, he lost his own thoughts, and waited for blood.

'This one appears to be getting stronger,' one of the men noted. His colleague nodded, straightening her glasses. He tapped on the glass of Subject Twenty-one's cell, looking at the teeth being bared at him.

'We'll run more tests on him. Once we've got the right formula, we can tag him and send him after the others. What's this one called?'

'David Lupin,' the man read.

'Remus Lupin and he must be related,' she frowned. 'We've been trying to get hold of him for years. They nearly had him about two or three months ago.'

'Well, do some tests on...' he glanced at his pad. 'Subject Thirty-five. He's expendable. Once you've got it right, send him after his son.'

'Will do,' she nodded, pushing her glasses back up her nose and walking away.

-------

Sirius had to go back to Malfoy Manor after the kids got let off. He couldn't very well stay at the school. He moped around the huge house, occasionally walking in on Remus and Narcissa doing ungodly things on the carpet. So much for Remus only being an animal three nights of the month. He couldn't get Harry out of his head. Ginny insisted that Harry was fine, but that failed to stop Sirius worrying.

The Ministry was still after him. The fun bit was, they thought he was really dangerous, and he wasn't. he was just a little puppy really. He wanted to get free of Malfoy Manor. He wanted to ride the open road. He wanted to go outside. He did. He got caught.

'Bollocks,' he groaned, straining against the anti-magic bonds. They had hit him from behind with a spell that made you show your true form. He guessed that black dogs were getting a little conspicuous.

He smacked his head pointlessly on the wall behind him. He was in a pure white cell, with a glass front. Many creatures looked at him curiously. He seemed to be in the animal unit. It stretched for miles. He couldn't see the end of this giant room. All these people with clipboards kept passing his cell, taking no notice of him whatsoever. He tried yelling, but they didn't seem to hear him.

Sirius worked his way out of the cuffs in a second. Then he went to examine the glass. He tried not to look too intelligent, otherwise they'd realise he wasn't some dark creature, but actually just an Animagus. He checked that no one was looking, before pulling out one of his pitch black hairs. He touched it gingerly to the glass, and it exploded. He jerked his fingers back quickly to avoid being burnt.

Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, he considered things. They must think he was one of those shape-shifter things, or a vampire. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been passed off as one, and some were said to change into big black dogs instead of bats. That would be it, then. he jumped up and down in front of the glass, waving his arms. In the end, someone came over to stop him. They pressed a little button, and suddenly he could hear everything.

'Will you calm down!' she snapped.

'No. There's some kind of mistake here...' he began.

'No, I assure you, there isn't. You test vampire positive.'

'I think I would know,' he said.

'I think we would know,' she corrected.

'You don't know shit,' he spat.

She looked completely furious. She stormed off, and it all went quiet again.

He smacked his fists into the wall in rage. Then he stuck his hand into his pocket. This obviously wasn't a wizard establishment, or he'd have been arrested straight away. His wand was still there. Relief flooding through him, he pointed it at the glass.

'Reducto,' he muttered lazily.

It was quite impressive. The glass shattered outwards from the point in front of his wand. Lots of little shards flew everywhere, and as they fell to the ground, he walked out. His boots crunched the glass beneath them, and he bled from a cut on his arm and one on his cheekbone. All the Muggles ran towards him, wielding guns of all sorts.

'Expecto Patronum,' he said, and a large black dog stood before him. As they fired their pesky little weapons, the dog howled. A shimmering barrier appeared between him and the Muggles, and all the bullets and darts bounced off it. Laughing like an evil maniac, he disapparated, leaving them in total confusion.

-------

Hermione hadn't gone to the library for any of her usual reasons. Now it was empty, she was there to think. She sat on one of the squashy window cushions, and looked out at the mountains. It was cold, and her breath steamed up against the stained glass window.

Harry loved her. It was getting harder to think of him, more and more like wading through treacle every day. Her fast mind sifted through all her thoughts so slowly. She couldn't think of anything when she wanted to, and she dreaded term starting again. He loved her. What did she feel about that? It was hard to say. She gazed out of the window, trying to gather it all up and consider it fully. It was like this that Ron found her.

He tapped her on the shoulder, she turned around numbly, and said 'Harry?'

That was the last straw. 'It's over!' he yelled, running out.

Hermione, oblivious to the pain she had just caused, returned to her quiet vigil. She knew she would only have to wait.

-------

Draco knew what he would have to gather. It was a complicated spell. It seemed to appeal to his ironic nature to use the spell he had just 'died' to end, but it would be a little hard getting hold of his foe's blood. Draco, unfortunately, didn't count any more, and he didn't feel that Snape would really be up for it.

No, instead he had settled for a simple transference spell. Well, essentially simple, but they would need somewhere to put the soul. That could be a problem. Harry's body would be a) dead, and , grossly enough, b) probably a little mouldy by now. He frowned over the problem. Maybe the spell wasn't as good as he had thought. There was one other...

'Oh well,' he muttered. 'Azkaban, here I return.'

Ginny was giving him odd looks as he wrenched the lock open on Snape's stores. She kept making little 'ermph' noises containing worry and disapproval. She actually let out a squeal when he delivered it a heavy sideways kick with his boot.

Draco was thoroughly enjoying this. He fished ingredients off a shelf, vaguely aware of Potter's presence, and starting violently every time he saw the boy reflected in a vial. This was more than he had bargained for. He was expecting to be dead by now. He made a mental list of what had gone wrong, in his opinion, so far as he piled all the packets and bottles into a bag.

He had killed his father. That wasn't too wrong, but it still wasn't a good idea.

He had gone to Azkaban.

He had escaped badly and nearly drowned.

He had failed to plead his case well enough, and got hunted.

He had a clove attack.

He fell in love with Ginny. That wasn't wrong, exactly, but he hadn't intended it to happen.

He liked Potter. Same as above.

He had been denied the right to kill himself.

He had allowed Potter to do it instead.

He had to help Potter get back to earth via a very illegal spell.

He had not seen the last of his cell in Azkaban.

Unconsciously, his hand went to his shoulder. It still hurt, it wasn't healed yet, far from it. When he lay in bed at night, he kept feeling the fire in his flesh. The smell of the smoke plagued him. all he knew was that if that was done to innocent people without question, then what was evil? Who fought it?

The answer was obvious. Harry. But Harry was gone. They would try to deal with that, but the last speck of true good was hanging on Draco's memory. He had seen the spell once, a long time ago, and that was all they had to go on. He had excellent recall, but that was the only odd in their favour.

He led them up to the astronomy tower. It was stormy again, and darkness had fallen early because of the clouds. Wind tore at them as soon as they emerged from the staircase. There was no rain, yet. They sat down beneath the battlements, which shielded them slightly from the gale. Draco began to set out the ingredients. Ginny conjured some candles, and lit them. Even in the fierce wind, they stayed lit, although they guttered all the time.

Draco held his hands out before him. they began to glow as he focused on them, and the night washed away like the tide. Muttering old circle magick in a harsh voice, he began to build it up. Ginny trembled visibly, and her long hair was blasted back from her face. He snapped his fingers, and a ring of undulating green fire surrounded them. Ginny quailed, leaning toward the cauldron in the centre.

Draco, however, felt so much power running through him that he wanted to fly. His blood rose, lifting him up and up, but he stayed sitting on the stone. His hair rose in a cloud around him, and he could tell from his tinted vision that his eyes were glowing green. With one long, unfamiliar finger, he pointed at the cauldron.

All the ingredients began to filter in. When they were all gone, the wind rose higher and higher. It battered the candles and the circle, snapping lightning over their heads. Ginny tried to stand, and run, but she couldn't move. She started to scream. Draco didn't hear her. He lifted a small dagger, and cut a drop of his blood into the potion.

Then the candles went out.

It was so dark that Draco felt that if he reached out his hand, he could touch it. The circle had died down to a barely visible line. Then the potion started glowing. It was blood red, but thicker. The liquid began to boil sluggishly, then it flowed out of the cauldron.

It started to gather in a certain place, flowing upward in a set form. It built up into a body. Details began to appear, and with a final flash, and the re-lit candles, it became Harry. He held out a hand before him, testing it, examining it. He was laughing, crying. Draco grinned happily, proud of himself, then he fainted.

-------

Dumbledore was in his office, drumming his fingers to the side of the table in time with his favourite tune. His peaceful moment was disturbed greatly by the shouting of all the portraits in the school. Even the old headmasters awoke for the occasion, grumbling and mumbling. He leaped up, and ran to the door. Minerva was already waiting at the foot of his stairs.

'Annie on the third floor says it came from the astronomy tower,' she told him breathlessly, pointing out. Her bun was slightly unravelled, and strands blew around her face. She clutched her wand in her white and shaking hand.

Albus nodded gravely, and the two of them moved at a fast but dignified pace to the tower. They burst out onto the stormy turret just as a flash of lightning illuminated the scene. It was so dark after the flash, that Dumbledore could hardly believe what he had seen. It looked like something from a nightmare.

Draco Malfoy was sprawled across the floor, bleeding quite badly. His silvery hair pooled on the damp, shining stone before him. Ginny Weasley was holding a hand over her mouth, backed up against the wall. Her eyes caught the light, and they were as wide as they could have possibly gone. Harry Potter, who was dead, stood perfectly alive, drenched in what appeared to be blood. There was not a speck of him uncovered.

Minerva gasped, and staggered back, holding a hand to her heart, and one behind her to stop her falling down. Albus looked at them all severely. He flicked his wand, and a floating pillar of flames rose over them.

Harry really was standing there, gaping at his own hands. Draco lay as though dead on the stone. Ginny screamed when she saw them. She pointed at Draco wordlessly. Minerva rushed over to the boy, and began to check his breathing, then she conjured a stretcher, and took him away. Ginny cast a glance at Harry before following. The door clicked shut behind her, and Dumbledore turned to the Potter boy.

Harry looked up at him sheepishly.

'I didn't really die,' he excused himself feebly.

'No, but you've been raised.'

'Yeah,' Harry said faintly, trying not to look at his hands. Dumbledore muttered the 'Mundus' spell at him, and the blood vanished.

'Why?' Albus asked quietly.

'Well, it was Draco's idea. He thinks it's all his fault I was dead. It was meant to be him, you see, but I wouldn't let him. He felt he owed me, I think.'

'Do you realise exactly what this spell does? How it works?'

Harry didn't think he was getting in trouble. Dumbledore seemed more amazed than angry.

'Draco now owes you nothing. You owe him completely. This spell transferred half of his energy into you. If he wasn't such a... an energised person, it would have killed him. He is a very lucky boy, but you are luckier by far, to have him as a friend. I will not punish any of you, but know only that this is dark magic, and should not be explored any further by either of you. I suggest that you thank Mr Malfoy a lot for his service to you this day. It would be wise to stay on his good side. Power such as that is not to be played around with. It should have killed him. I'm sure he knew that, which makes it all the more worth noting. Don't die again, Harry. He won't be able to save you next time.'

'Yes, professor.'

'Oh, and go easy on yourself for the next month or so. You're living off Draco until you re-establish yourself.'

'I will professor.'

Dumbledore turned and went through the door to the dark stairway beyond. He needed to talk with Malfoy about this power. It could be very useful.

-------

Ginny couldn't leave him. It was too hard. Nothing really mattered anymore, with all that had happened to them. All she knew was that they had to stick together. She scrawled a poem on one of the paper bags Madame Pomfrey had brought her food in. It wasn't really true, but it still mirrored how she felt. Who knew if Draco would be in a coma for years? Nothing was certain yet. Madame Pomfrey had said as much.

She read it through, then realising she had written it without thinking about a single word. She blinked tears out of her eyes, thinking about Hermione, and how she must have felt. Ginny knew that they had always loved each other. Harry had always loved her, that was certain, and she should know. It had been her watching him all that time, looking at Hermione, not her. And Hermione, was that ever just friendship?

She freely admitted that she was bitter. Harry had always been nice to her, but when it came to the crunch...

~~*~~